Of Pirates and Princesses: 30 romances
by ice princess deluxe
Summary: Collection of short Balthier/Ashe one-shots for the LJ community 30 romances.
1. 1 cold hands, cold feet

Series Author's Note: This is a short collection of ficlets for the LJ community 30romances. None of these are connected unless otherwise stated in their own notes. Most are post-game, so expect spoilers for characters and plot.

Title: It's All in Your Head  
Theme(s): #1 cold hands; cold feet  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: Snow isn't all that lovely when you're out in the middle of a blizzard.

* * *

"The sooner we get out of this forsaken snow, the better," Balthier muttered, rubbing his hands over the small fire that, despite the howling wind and damp snow that threatened to undo all his careful work, he managed to keep alive.

"I take it you don't agree with the weather," Ashe said dryly. She hadn't taken third watch in a while, choosing the first one instead, when she was still alert from the day. Now she remembered why she disliked the other two watches. When Vaan had woken her up, all she had wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep. She sat next to Balthier, holding the blanket she had draped over her shoulders closer around her as she pulled her knees up to her chin. "Growing up, I always wanted to see snow. It's really beautiful."

"If viewed from inside with a fire blazing in the hearth, perhaps. I'd rather be somewhere warmer. Even as a child, I…" He stopped, growing quiet before he shared anything personal. "I hate it. Snow isn't all that lovely when you're out in the middle of a blizzard with the barest of covers keeping the worst off, is it?"

Surprisingly, Ashe let out a laugh. "I do believe this is the first time I've heard you be anything less than cheerful."

He snorted, feeding the fire. "Then you haven't been paying attention. I'm a sarcastic and unpleasant person to be around."

"If you are, then why is it that Fran has been with you for so long?" Honestly, she didn't know how long the two pirates had been partners, but she was trying to fish for information.

"I attribute my charming good looks as the reason she hasn't ridded Ivalice of yet another sourpuss by killing me in my sleep."

Ashe gave him a faint smile. "You're not all that bad," she said, "once one gets used to you."

He smirked, rubbing his hands over the fire again. "Glowing praise, I'm touched." He shook almost violently, his teeth clattering together. "Why is it that you're not freezing? I can't keep warm."

Her eyes widened slightly at the question. "I don't know. I guess it's more of a mind over matter thing."

"Care to explain?"

She pulled her blanket closer as a gust of wind blew their way. "In the desert, you can't really do anything about the heat. Dwelling on it only makes you that much more aware of how hot it is. I started thinking of colder things instead. Out here, I just reversed the process." It might have been a trick of the firelight, but Balthier thought he saw a faint blush on her cheeks. "It's a silly idea, I know, but it works."

He reached out to put another handful of twigs on the fire. "Ingenious, rather. So tell me, Princess, what sort of things have you been thinking of?"

She picked up a stick and idly drew a few lines in the snow. "Nothing specific, just how the sun feels over my skin or how the horizon always shimmers during midday. That sort of thing."

Balthier had a sudden thought of Ashe in the middle of the Estersand, wearing even less than she usually wore. In his mind's eye, her skin _was_ pleasantly sun-warmed under his hands. He watched as she leaned forward, her breath fanning over his lips, warm and inviting. He closed his eyes and…

"Balthier?" He blinked, bringing himself back to frigid cold reality.

"Yes?"

"Your eyes were glazed and you didn't answer me." She looked at him in concern. "I thought you might have frozen on me."

He shook his head. "Far from it. I think you're onto something with this mind over matter theory."


	2. 2 the subconscious, bury

Title: Cure for Anxiety  
Theme(s): #2 the subconscious; bury  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "You're humming."

* * *

"You're humming." 

Balthier tilted his head. "I was? I didn't know." The chilly atmosphere surrounding their camp deep within the Pharos made the stone he was leaning against slightly damp. He'd picked the third watch, preferring to already be alert before starting out on another day full of false walls and endless stairs. Surprisingly, Ashe had chosen to sit with him instead of taking the first watch like she always did. He guessed that exhaustion had a part to play in her choice, seeing that as soon as they had deemed the area safe to stay, she had gone to sleep almost as soon as her head hit the floor. The waves of monsters they had fought the day before had taken their toll on her; she kept her sword drawn and her fingers tightened on the hilt any time she thought she heard something.

He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was in the same mindset. His hand twitched on the stock of his rifle at the smallest sound, even if it turned out to just be Vaan snoring.

"You're doing it again."

He caught himself mid-bar and stopped. Again, he hadn't been aware that he had even started to quietly hum. "Does it bother you?"

She shrugged, shifting against the wall to get into a more comfortable position. As close as they were, he could hear her back pop at her movements. "No, not really," she whispered. "What song is it?"

"I don't know. What did it sound like?"

She looked at him. "I'm not going to sing."

"What, do you have an atrocious singing voice that I don't know about?" His tone was teasing.

"It's not that." She bit her lip and in the gloom, Balthier swore she looked nervous.

"Then what is it, Princess?"

"I just don't like doing something like that in front of other people. It's too…personal."

He shifted his leg, bringing his knee up close to his chest. "Would it help if I started a song then?" He winked. "I know several limericks that you won't hear in any court."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you have quite a repertoire of those." To his credit, she had lost the uncertain look she had earlier. "Close your eyes."

He was going to ask her if he did, would she grant him a surprise, but figured that any smart-aleck question would make her call the whole thing off. Even so, he was in for a surprise when he heard her clear her throat and move closer to him, her arm brushing his. She quietly hummed a few bars and Balthier's breath caught.

"Interesting," he mused, his voice breaking the spell Ashe had unknowingly put him under.

"Why is that?"

"It's surprising what the mind remembers, is all. I had a nanny, a governess actually, when I was very young that used to sing that to me whenever I had a nightmare." He shook his head. "I haven't thought of her for years."

Ashe tried to wrap her mind around the thought of a young Balthier in the care of a governess. Understandably, he hadn't revealed much about his past, but every once and a while when they were alone, he would hand out little tidbits to her. She never knew if it was because he trusted her enough now to share or if they came out of his mouth unbidden, but she was glad that he shared them with her. "Maybe the environment we're in triggered it," she offered.

"Maybe."

She shifted closer, her arm now pressed against his. "I'd say she knew what she was doing. It was…" she paused and searched for a word.

Balthier turned his head. "It was what?"

"Comforting." He noticed that her hands had left the sword at her side, her fingers linked together in her lap. "At least I thought it was." She shivered.

"Cold?"

"A little." Her shoulders stiffened for a second when he looped his arm around them, but she quickly relaxed. "Thank you."

"Get some rest; I'll finish the rest of the watch." He saw her start to protest, but he cut her off. "If I hear anything, you'll be the first to know."

"You're humming," she said sleepily, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I know." Because she hadn't stopped him, he ran his fingers over her arm in a lazy pattern. Her breath was warm against his neck and it soon held a rattle of sleep in it. He rested his cheek against the crown of her head and realized that the anxiety he had felt since they had set up camp for the night had melted away.


	3. 3 anvil, banter

Title: Thinly Veiled Affection  
Theme(s):#3 anvil; banter  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Words: 100

Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "I wish they would get along."

* * *

"I wish they would get along," Penelo said. She was too far to hear what they were saying, but their body language didn't look friendly.

"And who says that they're not?" Fran asked.

"What?" Balthier was smirking while Ashe crossed her arms.

"Children often taunt those that they care for, don't they?"

Penelo thought about the time Vaan had dipped her pigtails in an inkwell Migelo kept for inventory. "Sometimes."

Fran's ears twitched, letting her hear every word. "I believe that is the case here." She watched her partner walk away and noted the faint smile Ashe gave his back.


	4. 4 diabolical, highest order

Title: Snip  
Theme(s): #4 diabolical; highest order  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "He's a child. They do things like this."

* * *

"Is this payment for past crimes?" Balthier asked, sitting heavily on the garden bench.

"It depends, what happened?"

He glared at her and arched his eyebrow. "Your son is a menace."

Ashe smirked. "The only times you don't claim your child is whenever he gets into your things."

"We do employ a nanny, do we not? Certainly a two-year-old isn't _that_ difficult to look after."

"I don't know; he is quite a handful."

He snorted. "Takes after his mother, no doubt."

She decided to ignore that remark. "So what level of mischief has our boy gotten in now?"

"Apparently, he has now figured out how to open bureau drawers. The clasps of all my vests have been cut through."

Ashe stiffened. "Cut?"

"Oh yes. He found a pair of scissors from who knows where and went wild. Luckily, I found him before he poked an eye out."

"He's a child, Balthier. They _do_ things like this."

He stretched his legs out in front of him. "I'm glad you feel that way. Surely you'll be understanding when I tell you that before he attacked my vests, he decided to practice on your nightgowns."

"My _what_?"

"It seems that the green silk one you have isn't just _my_ personal favorite. He rendered the thing to shreds."

Ashe closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers over her temples. "Balthier?"

"Yes?"

"_Your_ son is a menace."


	5. 5 trickery, magic

Title: Friend or Foe  
Theme(s): #5 trickery; magic

Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: At least that would explain why she couldn't remember anything.

* * *

Ashe had a pounding headache. She tried to open her eyes, but the harsh sunlight overhead merely added to her discomfort. Nausea clawed at the back of her throat and she couldn't find the strength to roll over to her side. At least the grass she was lying on was cool and soft to the touch, though there was a rock digging into her shoulder that was starting to hurt. The last thing she could remember was being ambushed by four malboro overkings after coming around a corner of one of the ruins that dotted the Tchita Uplands. One of the malboros had belched out a foul stink and…

She snapped her eyes open and drew in a sharp breath. Fran and Balthier had been with her. She couldn't remember much, since everything had happened so fast, but she did recall hearing Fran cry out and Balthier curse. Ashe was in the middle of attempting to sit up when she heard them talking. Relieved that they were fine, she closed her eyes again and prayed that one of them had a decent supply of potions.

"She's been out for at least an hour," Balthier said off in the background.

"It's been twenty minutes, if even that long," Fran's calm voice answered. "Now stay still long enough for me to finish patching you up." Ashe heard movement to her side and felt someone sit next to her. The warm notes of aftershave told her it was Balthier.

"You are too hard on yourself," Fran continued. "It wasn't as if you had any other choice."

Fingers sifted through her hair, pushing it out of her face. "I should have bought some more smelling salts at the last vendor. I just took for granted having people around that could cast esuna." His breath hissed out between his teeth. "Damn it, Fran! Did you _have_ to tie that so tight?"

Fran gave a little harrumph. "It took your mind off your brooding, did it not?"

"I'm not brooding."

"Of course you aren't." Fran's voice was patient, as if she and Balthier had gone over variations of the same conversation several times since Ashe had been out of commission. "I'm sure that she would have done the same to you if your roles had been reversed."

His fingers were back, this time gently tracing the curve of her cheek. She should have stopped him, should have opened her eyes and told him he was being completely improperly, but she didn't. Because of years of people saying that this exact behavior _was _improper, people often kept their distance from her. As a consequence, she had become starved for touch, even if it just meant the casual brush of someone's hand during a conversation. The backs of his fingers were warm against her skin. "I don't want to think about that," he said quietly.

"I'm going to scout around. Perhaps the others are close by." Ashe felt rather than heard her leave; Fran always had been the stealthiest member of their group. She opened her eyes then, seeing that Balthier was still sitting next to her. He wasn't looking in her direction, which gave her the opportunity to watch him. He looked upset: his lips were set in a thin line and the skin around his eyes was strained. His vest was missing and surprisingly, his shirt was hanging unbuttoned out of the waistband of his pants. It was so unlike Balthier to be less than impeccably dressed that the sight made Ashe blush. She took a deep breath and managed to roll to her elbow.

The movement made Balthier's head whip towards her, his pained expression melting behind the usual indifferent mask he often wore. "Ah, you're awake." He shifted, moving so he could help her into a sitting position. "Water?" he asked, tipping their water skin to her lips.

"Thank you," she said. "What happened?"

"You got hit by a bevy of ailments all at once." Balthier dug around in his item bag, producing a potion that she gladly accepted. "You were blinded, poisoned, confused…"

Ashe sat up straighter. "Confused?" That would explain why she blacked out right after the malboro attack.

Balthier nodded. "Fran was hit with a silence spell so she couldn't cure you right away."

"Did I hurt either of you?"

Balthier didn't say anything.

"I did, didn't I?"

He finally shrugged. "Just a glancing blow, nothing serious." His eyes shifted slightly to the side and his tone was far too blasé.

"You're lying." Dread welled up in the pit of her stomach. "What did I do?"

Balthier sighed, pulling the edge of his shirt open. Ashe gasped when she saw the bandage wrapped around his chest, the center portion stained red. "Like I said, it was hardly anything. It looks far worse than it is, really." She could tell that he was still trying to downplay the injury.

"Glancing blows don't cut through leather vests, Balthier." She reached out and touched a thin red mark the bandages didn't cover near his collarbone. His skin was hot, nearly scorching under her fingertips. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," he told her gruffly. He gave her a quick grin. "At least now you can say that you're the only woman to ever get so close to my heart."

She groaned. "That's not funny." She reached back near the base of her skull, puzzled when dried blood flecked off on her fingers.

"I'm sorry."

She frowned. "What for?"

He looked apologetic. "Well, with Fran busy taking out the malboros and you in no condition to heal yourself, I had to neutralize you somehow." He winced. "I hit you with the butt of my gun. I didn't realize how hard I had done so until you didn't wake up after a few minutes."

She grew very still when Balthier reached out and cupped the back of her head with one of his hands. The move brought him almost nose to nose with her. "Believe me, it was a last resort. If there had been anything else that I could have done…"

"I know," she said. "At least it's nothing a good cure spell can't heal."

He sat back and watched as the familiar greenish light enveloped her, causing her hair and clothes to flutter in an invisible breeze. He had expected her to cure herself first, but looked down to see that his chest was completely healed, the throbbing pain gone.

For a split second, Ashe saw a flicker of surprise along with some other emotion flit over his face, but it was gone before she could define what it had been. "Thank you, Princess." Standing up, he held out his hand to help her to her feet.

"It's the least I can do, what after almost hacking you to bits and all." She tried to keep the tone light, but still couldn't shake the guilt. She knew her own strength and knew how easily she could have killed him.

He scoffed. "Please. You were blinded; you got lucky." As usual, Balthier knew the right thing to say. He proceeded to button up his shirt, hiding tanned skin away from her eyes. Surprisingly, she felt more than a little disappointed at the move. She followed him, shaking her head as he lamented the state of his shirt. She promised herself that she'd purchase him a replacement at the next shop they came across.

Right after they maxed out their supply of smelling salts, that is.


	6. 6 so not funny, sarcasm

Title: Return to Sender  
Theme(s): #6: So not funny; sarcasm  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe don't belong to me. Both property of Square.  
Summary: Maybe sending Vaan to return items hadn't been such a smart idea.

Note: Spoilers for end of game.

* * *

The sharp crack of her palm against his cheek stung. He slowly turned his head so he was looking at her, his jaw wagging back and forth experimentally to see if she had done any permanent damage.

"So I take it you're still upset that I sent your ring back via Vaan and Penelo," he ventured.

Her eyes narrowed. "No, I love it when the people I feared were dead for an entire year send back objects that belong to me. I love it even more when they send them back through other people instead of delivering them to me in person." She angrily kicked off her shoe and threw it at him. "There. Have it mailed back whenever you leave Rabanastre for good."

He caught her around the waist and kissed her, his mouth slanting over hers, not giving her any time to think or retaliate with yet another slap. "I missed you too," he murmured.


	7. 7 think pink, blow

Title: Inquiring Minds Want To Know

Theme(s): #7 think pink; blow  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: It wasn't his fault that he was gifted with an active imagination.

Note: Companion piece to #20 A Gentleman Never Swaggers.

* * *

Balthier had always thought that the color pink was interesting. Different shades evoked different reactions from him, though recently all of them had something to do with a certain deposed princess. From his spot behind or beside her as they walked, vibrant pink was rapidly becoming his favorite color. It was so eye catching that it was technically not at all his fault he found his eyes glued to Ashe's backside as they traveled. And her skirt was so indecently short that it was only natural that his highly inquisitive mind pondered what the small swath of cloth covered.

Yet such thoughts also tended to come with certain consequences. These were mainly in the form of a tall, blond knight that would see red if he truly knew the graphic details of Balthier's musings.

Again, not completely Balthier's fault that he had been gifted with a highly active and detail oriented imagination. And since red wasn't as appealing to him as pink – he did like all his body parts where they currently were and was adverse to experiencing pain – Balthier started to walk in front of Ashe instead of behind. He might have been robbed of opportunities to ogle, but by the way that the back of his neck prickled; perhaps there was something to be said for leading after all.

His suspicions were confirmed when he looked over his shoulder from time to time. Ashe's eyes would dart away, looking anywhere but at him. Her cheeks were always a pale pink as well, which was becoming Balthier's second favorite color. The way that the highest part of her cheeks would darken was endearing as well.

He smirked and put an extra swagger in his step now that he knew he had an audience.


	8. 8 analysis, collection

Title: Baubles  
Theme(s): #8 analysis; collection  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Resorting to snooping, Princess?"

* * *

Balthier's cabin aboard the Strahl was as neat as a pin. It made sense; the room wasn't that large to begin with and any unnecessary clutter would just make it all the more cramped. Being the gentleman that he was – or that was how he worded it – he had offered his bunk to Ashe when Vaan's mark hunts had them traveling all over Ivalice and far from inns. Natural curiosity led Ashe to look through the few built-in drawers that lined the walls. Most carried clothes, others held maps or ammunition, but there was one drawer near his bed that contained nothing but odds and ends that didn't make any sense in the otherwise organized space.

"Resorting to snooping, Princess?" His causal drawl had her spinning on her heel, her eyes guilty.

"I don't snoop," she told him, standing in front of the still open drawer.

"Of course not." He moved to sit on his bed, the mattress sinking slighting under his weight. "You just had the urge to find out if I wore briefs or those ridiculously loose-fitting shorts that are currently in fashion."

"I never!" But now that he said the words, she found her eyes taking on a mind of their own and wandering to the waistband of his pants. He caught her and his grin broadened, making her glare at him.

"I'll save you the trouble; my unmentionables are kept in the second drawer under my bed."

Ashe felt her face heat and hated the fact that he had the power to embarrass her. "I was merely wondering why you kept a bunch of meaningless things," she said stiffly.

He tisked. "One man's junk is another man's treasure. Perhaps I don't think they're meaningless." He reached over, the sleeve of his shirt brushing her thigh. Pulling out a chess piece, he rubbed his thumb over the worn surface.

"My mother and I used to play every afternoon," he said softly. "Keeping my mind occupied learning different strategies was just as important as my father's insistence that my nose be buried in musty smelling books, or so she always told him."

Ashe sat down next to him and listened as he continued. "She knew I hated being confined indoors, so we always played outside in the gardens." He inhaled, his eyes shut. "There was a jasmine plant nearby. Sometimes, I can still smell it if I try." He put the piece back and pulled out a small pewter pin in the shape of outstretched wings.

"You were in flight school?"

He shook his head. "No. This came from a boy who _was_ enrolled though. He kept taunting me about how he was learning to fly all sorts of magnificent ships while I was stuck on the ground because my father hadn't allowed me to attend. One day I had enough and started a fight. While he was stunned, I grabbed this. I was fourteen."

"Why do you keep it, then?"

He leaned back on his elbows. "Several years ago, I met up with that same boy. He's currently still working for the air fleets, but stuck in a desk job because the piloting skills he had so often boasted of weren't up to par. While he's stuck on the ground," he paused and looked up at the ceiling, "I'm captain of my own ship and answer to no one. I keep that to remind me that the tides have ways of changing and what is so presently certain doesn't always stay that way."

Ashe looked in the drawer, suddenly wondering just what other stories some of the things inside held. "I stand corrected," she said. "This isn't junk." She turned towards him when she felt a tug at her left wrist. Balthier held the rose corsage she had bought a few weeks ago, studying it in the lantern light. Battles had rendered it nearly useless and if she wanted to keep up the protective effects it held, then she'd have to buy another soon. The magicks might be worn down, but the deceptively delicate metal lacework was as sturdy as ever.

"I think I'll add this to my collection," he stated with a gleam in his eye.

"What will you say about it?" she asked.

He stood up and carefully set it inside the drawer. Closing it, he kept his back to her. "That I once knew a woman who took the time to see that certain things weren't always what they originally seemed." He turned back and the air in Ashe's lungs left her in one sudden whoosh at the intense look he gave her.

"Is that all?" she asked lightly, trying to find something, _anything_ to lighten the sudden turn their conversation had taken. She wasn't naïve; she knew all about the appraising way he had often looked at her during the course of their travels. Then again, she'd been giving him the very same looks when she thought he wasn't looking as well. If the circumstances were different, if she wasn't who she was and if she didn't have the tasks set before her that she did, she would have easily welcomed his advances.

ackaged they were.tractions, no matter hdid, she would have easily welcomed his advances.

'ir conversation had taken.The future of her kingdom was at stake. She didn't have time for distractions, no matter how attractively packaged they were.

Balthier blinked. "Well, I'd probably add that this certain woman was too nosy for her own good." And just like that, they were back to their usual banter as if he'd never stared at her in a way that had made her toes curl in her shoes.

He bid her goodnight and closed the door behind him. She sat on the bed for a while before curiosity got the best of her. Kneeling down beside the bed, she opened the second drawer, telling herself that she was only going to take a quick peek.

It was completely empty. The implications made her face redden to the point where she was certain that Balthier would have split his sides laughing at her expression.


	9. 9 rush, thrill, exhilaration

Title: Fly the Friendly Skies  
Theme(s): #9 Rush; Thrill; Exhilaration  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Fran will be upset that I killed her partner."

* * *

"I don't think that we should be doing this."

"Look, it's perfectly safe. Trust me."

"You say that, but every time I do, we wind up in trouble."

Balthier sat back in the co-pilot's seat and looked at her. "You're going to hold the whole Bhujerba thing against me forever, aren't you? How many times do I have to explain that the door _was_ locked?"

"If it was locked, then why did we get caught?" Ashe stared right back at him. "Uncle Halim gives me very odd looks every time I go to do trade meetings in his office now. I can't even look at his desk the same way again."

"You'd say that even if we _hadn't_ gotten caught by the Marquis."

"That's beside the point." She glared at the controls in front of her. "I can't fly this thing. We'll crash."

"If I could teach Vaan how to fly, I can teach you." He stood up and circled the pilot's seat. "Relax. You can't pilot with a white-knuckled grip." He put his hands over hers on the controls, easing her fingers out of their death grip.

"All that's going to be left of us are fiery bits of shrapnel. Fran will be upset that I killed her partner."

"She'll be irritated, that's for sure. There aren't many people out there like me. Now, give the right side a little nudge. Try to keep the gauge on the left centered." He had braced his feet at the anticipated jolt to the side, but still couldn't stop himself from hitting the seat hard.

"Balthier!"

"You're doing fine," he assured her. "The Strahl's a sensitive lady; use subtle movements instead." He moved so he was beside her. "See? You're already a pro at this."

"Don't you dare leave me," she warned, her eyes glued on the empty sky that stretched out before them.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He sat down and put his hands on the co-pilot controls. He wasn't doing anything, but the move seemed to let her relax. He watched as an hour went by, thoroughly enjoying the way her face went from extremely tense to slightly nervous to where it was obvious that she was enjoying herself.

"I think I'm starting to understand what the allure of flying is all about now," she said, taking her eyes away from the gauges and windshield long enough to smile at him.

"Flying is all well and good, but there are certain pleasures one can find on land."

She looked at him from lowered lashes. "What? There aren't similar thrills to be found in the skies?"

He couldn't stop the grin from spreading over his face if he wanted to. Hitting the auto-pilot button, he took her hand. "I'll make a decent sky pirate out of you yet, Princess."


	10. 10 dictionary, search

Title: Attack of the Green-Eyed Pirate  
Theme(s): #10 dictionary; search  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG for minor swearing  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Problems, Captain?"

* * *

The sound of something metal flying through the engine room made Nono wince. He really wished his hume employer would be more careful; it had taken him almost an entire afternoon to repair the secondary boosters.

"Problems, Captain?" he knew that it always put Balthier in a better mood when he called him that. Unfortunately, it didn't work this time.

"Just one," Balthier said, clenching his teeth. "If you looked in the dictionary, there would be a pretty picture of a certain royal someone beside the entry for _problem_."

Oh. So that was what had him in such a mood. "She _is_ pretty, kupo," he agreed, moving across the room to collect any stray tools before Balthier could throw them as a way to vent his anger.

"That's what her problem is. She's too damn _pretty_ for her own damn good."

Well, that was something. Normally Balthier didn't curse unless things really bothered him. Two damns in one sentence was telling evidence. He started grumbling about something else, but Nono decided to only listen with half an ear. Over the years, he found this proved to be the best route when Balthier was in one of his moods. When Balthier paused for a breath, Nono piped up. "So you like her then?"

Balthier stopped in mid-rant and blinked at the little green-clad moogle. "Of course not! She's demanding, stubborn, too proud," he ticked her faults off on his fingers. "She doesn't listen to a word I say…"

Nono tuned him out again. _Yep_, he thought, _he likes her._

"It's that overbearing idiot of a Margarace I'm worried about. She doesn't seem to have a clue as to how slimy he actually is. Did you _see_ the way he kissed her hand?"

"No, I missed that." _Thank goodness._

"You were lucky. I was wondering if he was going to run his tongue over her fingers afterward. Wouldn't put it past him to get away with it either. _I_ can't look at her in a completely innocent manner without Basch threatening to kill me, but the dear Captain doesn't lift a finger at the near obscene display." Balthier threw his hands up in disgust.

"You should tell her how you feel." Nono ducked and back out of the room when Balthier found a wrench Nono hadn't gotten to yet.

Fran was outside in the stairwell. Now _her_, Nono liked. She never lost her temper and threw things that might damage his precious Strahl.

"How is the engine pressure?" she asked, her ears swiveling as she heard her partner mutter darkly to himself about overly hairy men with comb-overs.

"The pressure is fine, kupo," Nono said, his puff ball twitching. "It's the blood pressure of the person inside that I'm worried about."


	11. 11 mission impossible, limitation

Fandom: Final Fantasy XII  
Title: And Not a Drop to Drink  
Author/Artist: iceprincessd  
Theme(s): #11 mission impossible; limitation  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "The alarms nearly tripped three times trying to get to them."

* * *

"And around that time was when a purple and orange polka-dotted flying moose attacked the starboard side." Balthier said, crossing his arms.

"That's nice."

He rolled his eyes and leaned over Ashe, his shadow falling over her documents. "Nice? If you'd been paying attention for the past ten minutes, you would have caught on that I had finished my official report and made the very last sentence up."

Ashe signed and pushed her papers away. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Well, don't ask me to tell you again. You're just going to have to read my report in the morning." He circled the desk and stood behind her. "You've been working too hard."

"Tell that to the blasted drought we're going through. Balthier, our water supplies are drying up. No water means no irrigation for crops, which means no feed for livestock. The markets are suffering because no one wants to buy goods from our merchants at higher prices to make up the deficit."

"And conservation?"

"Has already gone into aggressive effect. It's not like we can pipe water from Nalbina either, they're in even worse shape than we are." She rested her head on her desk with a muted thump. "It's only a matter of time before civil unrest begins. Water spells would work if there was any water around to manipulate. What I wouldn't give for a few months of rain." She hissed when Balthier's hands found a knot near her shoulder.

"You are too tense," he declared. "You need to relax."

"Now who isn't paying attention?" Her words might have been sarcastic, but it didn't stop her from leaning into his massage.

"No, I heard everything you said. And I may have a solution to all your problems." He bent down and kissed the corner of her mouth. "I'm quite talented that way."

"As much as I appreciate you in the bedroom," Ashe started, sitting up straighter, "I can't really see how your expertise is going to help with the water shortage."

He made an offended noise and perched his hip on the edge of the desk. "You wound me, Princess. I happen to have _many_ other talents besides having a pretty face." He reached into his vest and pulled out a slightly flattened rolled up piece of parchment. "The ability to suss out information has always been a specialty of mine. If you had been paying attention when I was telling you all the highly boring details of my trip to Archades, you would have caught onto the fact that I stopped in at the Engineering archives."

Ashe unrolled the paper, revealing detailed plans that she didn't have a clue as to what they were for. "These are complicated."

"I'll say. The alarms nearly tripped three times trying to get to them."

Her eyes widened. "You _stole_ these?"

"Borrowed, technically. Relax, Basch knows they're missing. It's his job to deal with the details and such after all."

She groaned and put her fingers over her eyes as if to stem a headache. "And what, may I ask, did you _borrow_?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just the plans on building a water purification system so you can bring in ocean water via airships outfitted with special tanks and turn it useable."

She dropped her hands and stood up. "You are brilliant."

"I won't argue that. And is my resourcefulness to be rewarded?"

She slid her hands over his chest until her fingers reached the collar of his shirt. "Quite handsomely." She mirrored his smile with one of her own before covering his lips with hers.


	12. 12 gargoyle

Title: The Dangers of Drain Spouts  
Theme(s): #12 gargoyle  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Seriously, I want to know."

* * *

"Where did you get that?" Balthier came up behind Ashe, making her jump.

"One of these days, I'm going to put a bell on you," she said, picking up the washcloth she had dropped.

"That would take the entire element of surprise out though," he replied, his eyes glued on her back. There was a nasty looking bruise going from her right shoulder and crisscrossing down to the left side of her hip. "Where did this come from?"

"This morning," she said, her cheeks pinking despite her best efforts to keep her composure. Balthier frowned, but then realized the mark was the same as the wooden wall panels in the bedroom.

"Oh damn. I'm sorry." He gingerly ran his index finger over the purplish bruise. Between meetings between the merchant guilds, reconstructing documents to rebuild the city's funds, and other royal duties, Ashe had all but crawled into bed on her hands and knees, exhausted from the day. This had gone on for well over two weeks, but that morning had been surprisingly light on meetings. She had gone to her chambers for something, found Balthier there – this was unusual because he was usually up and out in the aerodrome for the better portion of the day – and two weeks' worth of hungry looks and too short stolen moments had finally boiled over into an extremely satisfying encounter. The material of her nightgown hid the fingertip sized marks Balthier knew to be on her hips and the backs of her thighs and he grimaced at the consequences of his overzealous attentions.

"Don't be," she said, turning to him with her hairbrush in hand. "I'm not." She set her brush aside and ran her fingers over his vest. She sighed in pleasure when he stepped closer to her and ran his palms over her arms.

"You have freckles on your shoulders," he told her, bending his head to kiss the exposed skin. He paused when his lips ran over a slightly raised mark that he hadn't been aware of before.

"It happened when I was young," she supplied when he looked at her questioningly. "I can't remember how old I was; probably eight or nine, but I had a pet chocobo. One day while I was tending to him, I realized he had some sand burrs stuck to his feathers. I pulled harder on them than I should and he let me know."

"He bit you?"

"Nipped, actually. He was such a sweet thing, but if someone had been pulling at my hair, I would have bit them too." She undid the clasps at his back, letting the leather vest fall to the floor between their feet. "He was already old by the time I got him and chocobos don't have a long life span in captivity. He died when I was fourteen." Next came the buttons on his shirt. "Your turn."

"I'm afraid I don't have any interesting chocobo bites to show you." His hands came up to help her unbutton his shirt. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin, her hands smoothing the material away from his chest, her fingers resting at his sides.

"What about this one?" Her nails scraped against a scar that went in an upwards diagonal from his ribs to the right side of his chest.

"Knife fight in Balfonheim. The man who pulled a blade thought I was cheating at cards." He put a finger to her lips. "And before you ask, no, I was not. It bled something awful and ruined one of my favorite shirts."

She pushed the shirt off his shoulders, where it fell to the floor behind him. Backing away from the bath to the bedroom, she put a hand to his wrist to lead him to the bed. "And this?" There was a pale white line running from the inside of his wrist to his elbow.

"That one? It isn't important." He tried to distract her by attempting to pull her nightgown over her head, but once Ashe set her mind to something, there was little that could keep her from her goal.

"I want to know," she insisted, keeping a firm grip on the hem of her outfit.

He looked like he wanted to evade the question again, but finally relented. "I was ten. My family home had these odd shaped water spouts on the eaves of the roof."

"The ones shaped like people?"

"The very same. I'd always wondered just how the water went from the roof to out of their mouths, so one day I decided to see for myself. And of course, I had to conduct my exploration on a rainy day, so I climbed the roof."

"Oh no." Ashe suddenly had a mental image of a young Balthier shimmying his way across a tiled roof until he got to the very edge where the gargoyle would have sat. Strangely enough, the young Balthier in her head looked very much like he did now, complete with pointed sideburns and brightly colored jewelry, except that he was missing a front tooth and his hair was mussed.

"Long story short," Balthier said, yawning as he kicked his shoes off. "I climbed on top of a water spout and watched the flow of water until my curiosity had been satisfied. The only problem was that I had gotten myself stuck. The stone was slippery from the rain and as I tried to back up further onto the roof, I slipped. I scraped my arm against the spout and almost fell."

"How did you get down?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I just remember going back inside and getting my ears blistered for dripping bloody rainwater on freshly scrubbed floors."

Ashe shook her head as she climbed into bed with him. "I bet you were a handful when you were a child. Just a mischievous little scamp."

"And who says that I haven't grown out of that phase?" he asked, a smirk set firmly on his lips as he pounced on her.

Her laughter was muffled by the sheets he had pulled over both of their heads.


	13. 13 heads or tails you lose, dice, ace

Title: Even or Odd  
Theme(s): #13: heads or tails, you lose; dice; ace  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: I don't own Balthier or Ashe. Property of Square.  
Summary: He was already missing one of his shoes and an earring.

* * *

"I can't believe you know how to play this," Balthier commented.

Ashe shrugged. "The rules are simple enough and there's a fifty percent chance that you'll win."

"And what would our dear Captain say about your behavior?"

She took a delicate sip from the wineskin they were sharing. "Nothing. This is a soldier's game; who do you think taught me?" She leaned forward. "Besides, he isn't here, now is he?" She took up the pair of dice lying on the thin woven blanket they were sitting on and shook them.

"I say that they'll be even this time," Balthier predicted.

"Your wager?"

"An article of your choice." He was already missing one of his shoes and an earring. She wasn't fairing any better; she'd lost both boots, her belt, and her neckpiece, all of which were sitting in a pile near Balthier's hip.

Ashe shook her head and took another drink. "Somehow, I don't think Basch had this in mind when he showed me this game."

Balthier smirked. "No, but I'll have to thank him when I get the chance." He reached behind him and unbuckled his vest.

"But you haven't rolled yet," she protested halfheartedly.

"Does it really matter?" he asked, moving on his hands and knees until he was nose to nose with her. "We're both winners in this game."

She smirked up at him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Indeed." She let out a laugh as he lunged at her, sending them both rolling on the ground.

The dice fell from her hand, and if either of them had cared to look, Ashe would have won the roll.


	14. 14 craven, democracy, aristocrat

Title: A Snag in the Plan  
Theme(s): #14 craven; democracy; aristocrat  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe, Vaan, Penelo  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "But I feel so fancy!"

* * *

"For the last time Vaan, you are not going along," Balthier stated firmly, splaying his hand on the map of the Imperial palace for emphasis.

"I was using that," Fran said dryly, going over her notes.

"Why not? I'll fit in; it's a costume party after all."

"A costume party for wealthy aristocrats. You'll stick out like a sore thumb."

Vaan frowned, scratching the side of his nose. "But I feel so fancy." As if it would win his argument, he had already put on his disguise. It was meant for someone a few inches taller; the lace cuffs hung at his fingers and the elegant brocade vest sagged on him.

"Again, _no_. And get out of my costume before you wrinkle it."

Vaan goose stepped to another room on his ship. "So who's going to be your backup? Fran already said she was watching the outside guards and Penelo's guarding the ship."

Penelo sat up straighter. "Hey, how come I have to stay on the ship? You didn't even tell me I was until now!"

Vaan came back wearing his usual clothes. "Aw, come on, Pen. You'll blow our cover if you go in there."

Balthier and Fran shared a glance. "Was I ever that bad at that age?"

"No. You just had a bad habit of not planning things out thoroughly."

He grinned. "That takes the fun out of things." Before Penelo reached out to clock Vaan, Balthier intercepted. "He does have a point, Penny. Larsa is going to be there. He can spot you out in a crowd; your cover will be blown before you even get close to your intended target."

"I always get left on the ship though."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It wouldn't hurt to get some experience with surveillance. Fran, could you use another set of eyes?"

"It would be helpful, especially if things go bad."

"Then it's settled. I'll be the primary infiltrator, Penelo and Fran will be our eyes and ears, and Vaan will helm things here at headquarters." He left to change, shaking his head when he heard Vaan complain.

"That's just a nice way of telling me to guard the ship."

Elegant music played from the orchestra sitting in a raised area of the ballroom. With the vast amount of people attending, it was easy for Balthier to slip through the notice of the guards. He snagged a fluted glass full of a sparkling wine and concentrated on finding his target. Earlier that week, he and Vaan had canvassed the shops in Archades to see what the person they were looking for was going to wear. The man, also known as the Count Cyryil de Popinjais, was supposed to be decked out in phoenix feathers.

"Very expensive," the shopkeeper had said with a greedy light in his eye Balthier hadn't liked. "Could I interest you in the same?" Both pirates had declined.

Balthier wound his way through the crowds, eyeing the front dais. At seventeen, Larsa had gone through several growth spurts and filled out from the lanky twelve-year-old he had been. His adolescent crush on Penelo had followed him into adulthood, prompting him to employ both Vaan and Penelo as privateers for the Empire. He was no fool; he knew the skies were where Penelo belonged. If he could bring her closer to him by giving her a ship and having her report to him every so often, then so be it. As one that frequently did freelance work for Dalmasca, Balthier understood Larsa's thinking. All that the emperor needed was for Penelo to open her eyes and see how he felt about her.

As usual, Judge Gabranth stood silent to Larsa's right, his armor a sharp contrast to the bright multicolored costumes dancing around the room. Balthier went deeper into the crowd. Larsa might be able to spot Penelo at a hundred paces in a crowded room, but Basch had the uncanny knack of knowing when Balthier stepped foot on Archadian soil. He'd rather avoid a confrontation that might make him miss his target.

"Guards on the second balcony," Fran said, her voice quiet in his ear. The blue and green feathered mask easily hid the earpiece he wore. "There should be two; they'll be changing their shifts in five minutes."

"Any activity on the second floor besides them?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink to disguise his lips moving. The wine was good; fruity with hints of herbs and berries that grew in the local vineyards. Larsa spared no expense, it seemed.

"No," Penelo answered. "It's all clear. He should be on the first floor."

A hand at his arms made him turn. Purple and red feathers stared back at him, looking brilliant against the backdrop her wheat blonde hair made.

"What are you doing here?"

He relaxed, his shoulders loosening. "Would you believe it if I said I was invited?"

"No."

He shook his head. "Are you going to rat me out then, Princess?"

"You know I won't."

He looked her costume over. "Red suits you. Why haven't you worn it more often?"

"Perhaps I'll make it a habit. It's been six weeks, Balthier."

He gave her his best charming smile. As usual, it didn't work on her. "I told you to write," Fran said while Penelo giggled. "You're so busted," the younger girl laughed.

"Noted," he replied tightly. To Ashe, he said, "Save me a dance and I'll be more than happy to tell you what I've been up to." He led her to the dance floor with a hand under her elbow. They stood a respectable distance away from the other and he tried to concentrate on the fact that he was supposed to be a nobleman dancing with a queen for the first time than a man that was more intimate with her. The subtle perfume she wore and the soft texture of her skin under his hands were making that difficult to do though.

"See, Vaan and Penelo decided a week ago to do one of their friends a favor and hunt down a merchant that's supposedly ripping everyone off. He's charging five times the amount that he should and keeping the profits to himself. They need information on him to bring him to the attention of the authorities."

"And he's here?"

"Which is exactly why I am here. I'm going to pick his pockets to get his address and then go search his home. He'll be here for hours, giving me the perfect chance to find anything."

She frowned. "If he's an important merchant, then wouldn't it have been easier to just search the shipping records for his address?"

He shrugged, turning her into a complicated dance step. "Yes, but then I wouldn't have had the opportunity to crash a fancy party, now would I?"

Her mask hid most of her exasperated expression. "If this is Vaan and Penelo's heist, then why aren't they here?"

"Yeah! _She_ would have let me in!" Balthier winced at Vaan's exclamation.

"They asked for our help, so we're giving it."

Her fingers tightened in his hand. "And who are you looking for?"

"Oh, some Count. Poppington or something."

"Popinjais?"

"That's it." He twirled her, bringing her back flush to his front. At the moment, he really didn't give a damn who he was supposed to be looking for. She was right; six weeks had been entirely too long of a time to be away.

"Ugh. He's a pompous ass. And to your left, several dancers over."

Balthier looked over to see a balding, short man with a paunch trying to dance. "He looks awful."

"Horrible waste of phoenix downs," Ashe commented. "Very tacky."

"Quite." He danced her closer, his fingers brushing against the bared swath of skin at her waist. It was a move that would have landed anyone else in prison if he hadn't made it look like an accident. He smiled at her sharp intake of breath and watched as her eyes darkened. The number ended soon after. Balthier bowed low over her hand, his lips hovering yet not touching her knuckles. "Thank you for the dance, your Majesty," he said, every inch the wealthy gentleman.

"The pleasure was mine," she replied. "Perhaps we will dance again tonight?"

"I'm sorry to have to decline the offer. I have an errand to run." It was obvious that Popinjais was drunk. Getting what he needed would be simple. "Though perhaps later?

"Not too late. I may retire soon. Larsa has been kind to supply me with a room on the third floor of the palace." She smiled. "Such a nice room, the one at the end of the hall on the right."

He inclined his head. "If I ever get an invitation, I may visit it some day."

"Perhaps." She gave him what he liked to call her Royal Dismissal nod and walked away.

He sighed, noting her step was light with a hint of a sway at her hips that was almost inappropriate, but not quite. He turned back to the business at hand, determined to get it completed as quickly as possible.

Many hours later, Balthier slid under the silk sheets, his hand skimming over the nightgown Ashe wore.

"You're late," she sleepily declared.

"Popinjais is a slob. It took forever to collect evidence, even with Vaan's help." He kissed her bared shoulder, spooning closer behind her.

"Did you find what you needed?"

"That and more. The man is a greedy, pathetic waste of space."

She turned in his arms, throwing a leg over his. "Well, I'm glad you helped save the day. Now," her tone grew businesslike. "Care to explain your prolonged absence? You said that Penelo and Vaan asked for your help a week ago. That doesn't explain the other five weeks."

He scraped his teeth over her throat, making her gasp. "If I promise to write next time, can I leave out all the questionably legal details?"

"How about you make up for being gone instead?" She sighed when he found the sensitive spot behind her ear. "And if you can successfully distract me from asking about the questionably legal details, I'll ignore them."

He grinned, teeth bright in the dark. Turning so he was braced above her, he lowered his head. "You have yourself a deal."


	15. 15 take a hint, scram

Title: Do Not Disturb  
Theme(s): #15 take a hint; scram  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "I am going back inside and you are staying out here."

* * *

Vaan whistled to himself as he walked the streets of Balfonheim. The pirates there were gathered in droves to celebrate Reddas' life. Vaan thought that the raucous manner everyone was acting in was a far cry from the subdued mourning that he would have expected. _Being glad that you had the chance to know someone is a lot better than being sad that they're gone, I guess._

He stumbled but righted himself. He wasn't drunk – okay, maybe a _little_ - but at least Penelo hadn't given him any disapproving looks while they tried their first "real drinks," as one of the Whitecap patrons had informed them as they plunked glasses of something dark and mysterious in front of both of them. The best part was that they had been free. Whatever it had been, it had turned the tip of Vaan's tongue numb and had burned all the way down his throat to rest uncomfortably in his stomach. Penelo had taken one sip, made a face, and pushed her tankard aside. Vaan had finished his and started in on what she had left over.

He never could pass up free things.

Somehow, he had found his way back to the inn above the Whitecap. He swayed on his feet as he tried to remember what room he was supposed to be in. He did remember that he was sharing a room with Balthier though. As much as he liked the man, Balthier was a horrible roommate. He rarely talked, which made awkward silences that Vaan felt the need to fill and he slept too quietly. Vaan was used to Penelo softly sighing in her sleep and shifting around from time to time – though she had a bad habit of kicking him in the back every so often. Balthier just _lay_ there on his bed. Vaan often felt like he had to get up and check on him just to see if he was still breathing once and a while during the night.

He wondered if Balthier did the same thing when they camped, but never really could find out since they took different watches and Balthier's bedroll was the farthest away from the campfire. But since Fran hadn't seemed concerned, Vaan just chalked it up to a personality quirk.

Huh. The door was locked. He grabbed the handle again and twisted, but it wouldn't budge. He patted his pockets to see if he had a spare room key, but came up empty handed.

"Balthier, the door's locked." He hoped that he had the right room; Basch was scary when he didn't get enough sleep. Vaan had woken him up early once and the older man had muttered something under his breath about testing the edge of his axe on certain annoying street urchins. He had also given Vaan the worst sort of glare before rolling over and going back to sleep.

Vaan really didn't want to see if he had been serious about that threat or not.

"Balthier?" He rattled the knob again. "Are you in there?" He knew he had gotten the right room when he heard a growl from inside, followed by a muted thud and then the sound of Balthier cursing while hopping on one foot, by the sound of it.

Moments later, the door opened up a crack and Balthier stuck his head out. Vaan noticed blearily that his hair was messed up as if he had run his fingers through it and his shirt was missing. "The door was locked," he explained. "And someone's stolen your shirt."

Balthier nodded, stepping carefully outside into the hallway, closing the door behind him. "Yes. There was a reason too." He looked at Vaan critically. "You are drunk, my friend."

Vaan held his index finger a little ways away from his thumb. "Only a little." It would have been more convincing if he hadn't slurred. "So why's the door locked?"

"I have a guest."

"Oh. Well, the more the merrier!"

Balthier rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Actually, not in this case. I have a _lady_ guest."

Normally, Vaan wouldn't be so slow on the uptake, but his brain had been dulled by the drinks earlier. Dawning realization hit and he opened his mouth only to close it again. "Oh. Right, gotcha."

Balthier sighed. "Good. I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone."

"Especially Ashe?"

Balthier looked like he was either going to be sick or he was trying not to laugh. "Especially not her."

"Right."

They looked at each other for a while before Balthier fidgeted on his feet. "Well. I'm going back in there then."

"Okay." Vaan made a move to follow.

"And you're not."

"Oh. That's right." He leaned over and winked. "_Lady guests_."

"Exactly."

"So, um, Balthier?"

Balthier inhaled sharply and turned back to face Vaan. "_Yes_?"

"Where am I supposed to sleep then?"

"I'm certain you'll find somewhere." He opened the door and slipped inside. "Good night."

Vaan leaned back on his heels before he got the door slammed in his face. There was the unmistakable sound of the lock sliding into place. Vaan turned around. He wasn't tired yet; maybe someone would offer to give him more free drinks downstairs. He turned towards the door again when he heard a shriek of laughter that sounded like it could have belonged to Ashe.

"Nah. Balthier's not her type _at all_." With that, he wove his way back downstairs.

In the harsh light of morning, his head pounding and mouth unpleasantly dry, Vaan couldn't recall anything from the night before except for downing mug after mug of the dark any mysterious stuff much to the amusement of the people around him. He certainly couldn't remember falling head first into the chocobo stables.

At least he was fully clothed. That was something to be grateful for, especially since Penelo was currently standing over him and shaking her head.

"Really," she said, crossing her arms in front of her. "I can't leave you on your own for a second, can I?"

A nearby chocobo gave a soft "Kweh" and licked the side of Vaan's face. At least there was someone that understood him.


	16. 16 creme de la creme, on top

Title: A Tough Nut to Crack  
Theme(s): #16 crème de la crème; on top  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe, Fran Balthier  
Rating: G

Words: 100  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "She's not like other women."

* * *

"I don't think you _want_ her to like you." 

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You make a point to irritate Ashe with your incessant flirting."

He didn't miss a beat. "Jealous?"

Fran rolled her eyes. "I don't care for silly little boys."

He laughed. "You wound me."

The snort she gave told him she didn't believe for an instant that his ego was that fragile. "I'm just saying that she's not the type to fall for your usual charms. You're going to have to try different tactics."

He grinned. "Challenges like these are what leading men like me live for."


	17. 17 garden vista, elysium el dorado

Title: Red Tape  
Theme(s): #17 Garden Vista; Elysium El Dorado; Carnival  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe don't belong to me. Property of Square.  
Summary: That's what he got for giving the Strahl to her.

* * *

"It doesn't exist." 

"And who says it doesn't?"

Ashe looked up from the requisition paper the Admiral of her royal fleet had put down on the desk in front of her. "Historians. Did you _ever_ pay attention in school?"

Balthier grinned. "I was a gifted child. The subjects taught at the Akademy were boring." He paced behind her, his eyes fixed on the blue, blue sky overhead. "Just think, an entire city of gold. The royal treasury would greatly benefit."

"There is a _reason_ they called it the _mythical_ city of El Dorado. Note the emphasis on the word mythical."

He waved his hand dismissively. "That's just because no one ever reached it."

"It was a lie; a wild goose chase cooked up by Landian leaders to buy their people time to escape the Empire. Pick up a book to see, or better yet, ask Basch."

"Details, Princess." Ashe didn't bother to correct him on her title; if ten years of corrections hadn't made him change his ways, she doubted anything would.

"I'm sorry, but there isn't any way I'm going to authorize an expedition into Imperial lands on something so flimsy."

He turned in time to see her stamp 'Denied' on his requisition.

"Fine. I'll just take the Strahl and…"

"You'd _steal_ your Queen's flagship?" Since he was behind her, he couldn't see her wide smile.

His tone was one of frustration. "She's _my_ ship."

"You should have thought of that before volunteering its use then." She put her quill back in its holder with precise movements, thoroughly enjoying making Balthier squirm. "Though I guess I could overlook that fact. Previous ownership _does_ count for something."

"Right. Then I'll be seeing you in a week or two. I _may_ even donate some of the riches I find."

"Piracy is a serious offense, should you get caught," she warned on a sigh. "And seeing as you're acting on your own, I won't be able to help you out."

Balthier put his hands on her shoulders. Bending down, he placed a kiss on her bare neck before nipping at her earlobe. "Would you like to come with me?"

It was tempting, a week or more alone with him without worrying about her kingdom. "I still say it doesn't exist."

He smirked and held out his hand. "Then you can tell me that you told me so and I'll spend the entire trip making it up to you."

She took his hand. Her advisors could run things while she was away.


	18. 18 disheveled, in the rain, thunder

Title: No Man is an Island  
Theme(s): #18 disheveled; in the rain; thunder  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "You don't have to face things alone."

* * *

The Tchita Uplands were beautiful, but treacherous. This was especially true when it rained, the sheets of water pouring down from the heavens so heavy that it cut visibility down drastically, making it even harder to avoid fiends.

They'd camped for the night under the protection of a stone ruin. It didn't really afford much cover from the rain, but what it did give was enough for the injured members of their party. Penelo was curled up into a tight ball, still recovering from the poison a malboro had blasted at her. She'd cured herself, but was still suffering form intense nausea. Basch slept sitting up, his face showing the pain he had been so careful to mask during the day. While Ashe appreciated his concern for reserving their stock of potions, the gash on his leg courtesy a coeurl needed medical attention. Her energy was down from curing everyone else during the day, but she was gradually healing the wound while he slept.

"You need to rest," Balthier said quietly, offering her a cup. The rainwater went down smoothly, quenching her parched throat. "I'll take tonight's watch."

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm perfectly capable of taking my watch."

"I didn't say you weren't," he snapped back. He took a deep breath, composing himself. "I meant, you're about to fall on your feet. Let the pack mules pick up the slack." Ashe, Penelo, and Basch had fought the most, leaving Vaan, Fran and Balthier to hang back and carry their supplies. Even out of the main path of danger, Fran had still gotten hit with a blinding spell. Balthier hadn't known until he had seen the dark cast over her eyes and the way her ears had swiveled around to compensate for her lack of vision.

Ashe ran a hand through her hair, her fingers catching on wet tangles. "I'm sorry. Today was trying for everyone."

"Which is why you should rest. Tomorrow is likely to be even worse."

She raised an eyebrow. "Not the optimistic type, are you?"

"I prefer realism instead. The way to Archades isn't going to be a walk in the park. Fiends even worse than we've seen here are lying in wait."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked suddenly. "You have nothing to gain by helping us."

He looked into the rain, ignoring the fat droplets that struck his face. "We can't run from certain things forever, Princess. I've known that for years, but have only recently accepted it." He turned his head so he was looking at her again. "Get some rest. I'll keep watch with Vaan."

The last thing Ashe saw before sleep took her was a hazy outline of Balthier, lost in his thoughts and looking alone in the rain. She woke several hours later to relieve him and Vaan, glad that the rain had stopped. Rested, Basch's leg was easily healed without him even waking. Fran took the watch with her, her eyes long since cleared.

Balthier didn't say anything to her as he walked past, but she saw that his shirt was transparent and stuck wetly to his skin. She waited until he settled down in the empty space she had previously occupied before going to him.

"I am grateful for your help," she said quietly, taking the blanket around her shoulders off. "And I wanted you to know that even though you've decided to stop running, it doesn't mean that you have to face things alone." She handed him the blanket, surprised when he covered her hand with his instead. He didn't say anything; he merely squeezed her hand, the unspoken thanks all that really needed to be said.


	19. 19 homebody, bubbles, stay

Title: Go Back to Sleep  
Theme(s): #19 homebody; bubbles; stay  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: Honestly, let _one_ fiend take a swipe at her while reloading your pistol and you're marked for life.

* * *

The weak, pre-morning light was trying its best to filter through the lone window in the room Balthier was staying in. It was a rare pleasure to have an actual room to himself – he was usually paired up with Vaan whenever they had enough gil to afford rooms. Penelo was a seemingly sweet girl, but Balthier found out that she had a thinly veiled mean streak. She had _lied_ when she promised him Vaan went to sleep right away and slept quietly through the night. After the first inn, Balthier's ears had been talked off and then just as he had been drifting off to sleep, he had been jarred awake by the horrendous sound of Vaan snoring. At least out in the field the boy had _some_ survival instinct that kept him from snoring. In camp, Balthier always made certain that his bedroll was the furthest from him.

To top it all off, Miss Bright-Eyed and Bushy-Tailed herself had asked how he had slept with the most innocent look on her face as she fixed her braids that morning after.

Honestly, let _one_ fiend take a swipe at her while reloading your pistol and you're marked for life. He imagined that if it had been Basch who had dropped the ball instead that Penelo would have instantly forgiven him and not even dreamt about using Dalmascan Snoring Torture as a form of cruel and unusual punishment.

But back to his current room. They had upgraded all of their gear the night before and found out they still had a surplus of gil. He'd be the first to admit that the money was burning a hole in his pocket and had suggested that they all sleep somewhere besides the Strahl. As much as he loved his ship, he was in need of a change in scenery.

Plus it was easier to sneak in and out of Ashe's room than it was to smuggle her out of his private quarters without anyone noticing. As much as he had wanted her to stay an entire night, it was virtually impossible to do so in such close confines. And since he had been the one to speak to the innkeeper, he had gotten his top pick of rooms, delegating the walking buzz saw disguised as a pirate in training to a room far, far away from his.

He yawned, stretching his arms over his head. His back creaked and popped with the movement, making him wince slightly before scrubbing his face with a hand.

"Your hair is sticking up," Ashe commented, stirring at his side and reclining on an elbow.

He pulled his eyes away from the way the sheets pooled around her body. "Yours is too," he teased, grinning when she tried to tame the bed head mess.

"I don't think I've ever seen you anything other than perfectly groomed before. It's a shock." Her hand went to his face, her fingers catching on the stubble at his jaw.

"I'll get to that," he said, turning his head to drop a kiss on her palm. They were speaking in hushed tones, as if anything louder would break the intimate setting they were in.

"Don't." She tilted her head. "At least not yet. I like it."

He traced a finger over her lips, liking the way her eyes went hazy and her breath hitched. "Whisker burns don't become you, Princess."

"This is true, but I do happen to like the man who gave them to me, so I don't mind them much." She stretched, putting her arms around his neck. "It's getting late. I should go."

"The sun hasn't even come up yet." He shifted so his chin was resting on her shoulder. "Stay a little longer." He watched as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and thought her options over.

She moved closer to him, one of her legs going over his. "I guess a while more wouldn't hurt."


	20. 20 take it in your stride, walk

Title: A Gentleman Never Swaggers  
Theme(s): #20 Take it in your stride; walk  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe don't belong to me. Property of Square.  
Summary: She hated walking behind him.

* * *

She _hated_ walking behind him, especially the rare times they traveled by night. For one, he had a habit of stopping abruptly, making her collide with his back. He would always turn to make certain that she was fine, acting the part of the perfect gentleman.

He most certainly was _not_ a gentleman though. He was a rogue and she knew it. Someone as polished, as difficult to fluster, as…as damned _self-satisfied_ as he was couldn't be called anything less.

The second reason she hated walking behind him was what he chose to wear. The leather pants left nothing to the imagination and the item pouches he had slung low over his hips only seemed to accentuate portions of anatomy that as a married woman, should not give cause for her face to turn beet red, especially when she was caught staring.

Perfect gentleman that he was – or was it leading man? – he always seemed to know the precise moment her eyes were riveted by the near indecent swagger and turned to face her, a knowing smile on his lips.

She swore that one day she was going to travel with her sword drawn. _Then_ she'd see how often he made sure to walk in front of her.


	21. 21 the devil's advocate

Title: Caught  
Theme(s): #21 the devil's advocate  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe, Fran, Basch  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "He seduced her!"

* * *

The sharp feminine gasp followed by Balthier's startled curse and a door being closed with a bang was enough for Fran to deduce that her partner and Ashe had finally been discovered by someone.

_And about time too,_ she thought. _I was getting tired of covering up for them._ The sound of angry footsteps made her hurry to sit in her usual seat and wipe the "Balthier is in Trouble" smirk off her face.

"Everything all right?" she asked, throwing a glance over her shoulder. Basch sat heavily into a seat behind her, but then immediately shot back up to pace the small area in the cockpit.

"That rat," he spat through clenched teeth.

"I assume by rat you don't mean Vaan."

"No, I do not."

"So what has Balthier done?" It was more of a struggle to keep her voice even and her face neutral than she had expected, especially when Basch's ears reddened.

"There were…" he tried to search through his outrage for words. "Clothes and…_hands_ and…_Ashe_." He balled his own hands into fists. "I'm going to kill him."

"Out of curiosity, did you happen to knock?"

"I didn't think I _had_ to knock on the storage door!" Ah. Fran was going to have to have a talk with her partner. She was by no means a prude, but she disliked the idea of romantic liaisons happening on or near items she might personally use later on. "You don't seem too surprised."

She looked up. "Should I be?"

"He seduced her!"

"Oh? And she told you that?"

He sputtered. "No, but that is the obvious conclusion!"

"And it never crossed your mind that Ashe is a grown woman capable of acting on her own? That perhaps their arrangement is mutual?"

Her calm tone of voice had him sitting down again in a seat, his hands sliding down his face. "I've seen her in diapers. It tends to make me a bit overprotective."

"It is time for you to come to terms with the fact that both are now adults." She turned to face him. "He is not so bad. He tries to hide it, but he is a decent person. She could have done worse."

He leaned back so his head hit the headrest with a thud. "I still don't like it." Fran's ears twitched when she heard the tentative footsteps at the entrance. They were too light to be Balthier's, so she guessed they belonged to the princes.

"I do not think you have a say in this matter. Just don't kill him; I've worked for years to get him to where he is now. I'd hate to have to start training someone to take his place." She passed by Ashe and put a supportive hand on her shoulder. Ashe took a deep breath and walked inside.

Fran went further into the ship and found Balthier sitting on his bunk looking woebegone with his head hanging almost down to his knees.

"Really, the food storage of all places?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"He's going to kill me," Balthier moaned, not looking up. "He's going to use my own gun to shoot me. Either that or just hack me to bits."

She rolled her eyes. "Perhaps you'll be lucky and he'll only maim you."

Balthier groaned and flung himself backwards to stare at the ceiling. Fran walked away.

Ten minutes later, Vaan and Penelo did a double take as they came back from selling a couple of pieces of older gear. They could have sworn they had both seen the usually quiet and reserved viera just outside the aerodrome holding her sides and trying not to fall over from laughing so hard.

Vaan looked at Penelo. Penelo looked back at Vaan. Both of them didn't say a word as they boarded the ship.


	22. 22 shadow, flame, footfall, ouch!

Title: Standing Firm on Shaky Ground  
Theme(s): #22 shadow; flame; footfall; ouch!  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "I wish I knew more than basic first aid."

* * *

The skeletons residing in the Lhusu mines were overly fond of casting fire spells, which made running her sword through them all the more satisfying. Ashe turned her head, hoping that by not looking at her burned leg that it wouldn't hurt as badly as it did.

It didn't work. She clenched her teeth and muttered a string of curse words instead.

"Honestly, Princess," Balthier chided, wringing out a cloth. "Such language."

"You try sitting in my place and see if you can do better," she growled, hissing when he gently dabbed at her thigh where a blister was already starting to form.

"I'm sorry," he said in apology. "Times like this I wish I knew more than basic first aid."

"It's all right," she told him, inhaling sharply at another stab of pain. "Thank you for your help." She tried to summon enough energy to perform a healing spell, but couldn't. "What I wouldn't give for an ether right now."

"Well, you'll just have to make do with me instead," Balthier quipped, rummaging through the item packs at his hip. "Fortunately, I'm a resourceful individual. Take this."

"I thought you said you were out of hi-potions."

He shrugged. "I was. This one was liberated from Larsa, who carries so many of these things that I'm certain he never even missed it."

She eyed him critically. "Just how many did you take?" she asked, unstopping the cork and downing the contents. Almost immediately, the pain died to a dull throb.

"Oh, a couple here and a few there. Just in case he got wise to me, I asked Penelo to hold onto them."

Ashe couldn't help laughing. "If he did find out, he'd let her keep them as a gift."

"Exactly." He ran his index finger over her knee, letting it slide up a few inches to her thigh. "At least it came in handy; your burns look almost healed."

She looked at him as he carefully wiped dirt and grit from her skin with his handkerchief. His head was bent as he concentrated on his task and for once he wasn't looking at her as if he had ulterior motives – she knew he could have easily turned the situation into something lewd, aggravating her to no end.

It was when he was being gentle with her that he threw her off balance. She could deal with his flirtatious side easily, it was when he acted nicely for no other reason that she found herself on shaky ground. "Thank you," she said again.

He looked up from her leg and smiled. "You're welcome." He matched her stare for a long while before clearing his throat and standing up. "Shall we make our way back or do you want to continue practicing on these skeletons?"

She took his offered hand and stood, holding on probably longer than she actually needed to. Flexing her leg experimentally, she bent and picked up her sword. "No, let's keep going. We could use the extra gil more bone fragments can fetch at the market."

He smirked, reloading his pistol as he fell into step beside her. "As you wish."


	23. 23 roses, carnations, daisies

Title: The Eye of Age  
Theme(s): #23 roses; daisies; carnations; water lilies; random flower  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe don't belong to me. Property of Square.  
Summary: He was constant fixture at the Sandsea.

* * *

Old Pirate Balthier was a constant fixture at the Sandsea. His usual table was on the upper deck, and no matter how loudly he complained about his knees and joints aching from the climb, he wouldn't sit anywhere else. Years before, he'd order drink after drink, but nowadays, he only had one a day, usually bought by someone younger who would listen raptly to the tales he would spin in return.

If the listener was a woman, he'd flirt outrageously with her. The years had been kind to him; even though he wore spectacles on the bridge of his nose, he hadn't been attacked much by time. There were crinkles around his eyes and laugh lines at his mouth, and even though his hair had turned completely white, it was still thick and meticulously trimmed, his silvery sideburns still shaved razor sharp to accentuate his high cheekbones.

Depending on his mood – and if his Viera partner was there to deflate his embellishments with a single eye roll – the person buying his daily drink would get a tale of high adventure, of battling enemies and plundering treasure, of hearts that had been stolen and villains that had been outwitted amid the freedom the skies offered.

And if he was in a nostalgic mood, he'd spin a yarn of his lady pirate, whom he often traveled with. She was sharp of tongue and obstinate to a fault, but her beauty was unrivaled by any other woman in Ivalice. Waxing romantic, he would describe her as the only woman capable of stealing his heart: the one thing that no other woman had ever been able to do previously, nor had done since.

"You may ask what I'm doing sitting here talking with you when I have such a woman," he would say when someone invariably inquired. "The fact is, the fickle wench stole my airship and I'm waiting for her to come to her senses long enough so I can steal it back from her." This always earned a laugh, then a new listener – Balthier always did draw a crowd – would ask about the notorious sky pirate Vaan. On cue, Balthier would groan and put up a fuss.

"Fine, if you truly wish to hear of him. I can remember a time or two I've had to rescue him from his own folly…" Then he'd proceed to regale his audience with tales of embarrassment. Sometimes, if he was in town, the aforementioned pirate would laugh uproariously with the rest of them. When asked to tell some similar tales, he merely shook his head.

"That is because unlike secondary side characters," Balthier would say, elbowing his protégé, "that are there for the sole purpose of comic relief, leading men such as myself never have such mishaps."

He would end his storytelling session for the day right before sundown. He did this every day, much to the disappointment of both his audience and the tavern owners, for they made a pretty gil during the day – listeners did grow thirsty, after all.

Balthier might have been slower than in his youth, but he still walked tall and proud, the familiar swaggering gait still firmly in place. He wound his way down the busy streets of the East End, stopping at a flower vendor for a single bloom. Walking with purpose, he stopped and sat at his destination.

"They always like the one where you had to rescue me from bandits," he said, taking the day old rose out of the stone vase and putting the fresh Galbana lily in its place. "Especially the part where the both of us had to fight to escape and you blistered my ears for putting us in the predicament the entire time." Of course, he had worded it differently when retelling the tale, putting him in the place of hero instead.

After spending the day amid the raucous noise of the tavern, the quiet silence soothed his nerves. Running a hand over the stone, his fingers dipping over the carved letters proclaiming the spot to be Queen Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca's final resting place, he sighed. "My pirate queen," he said fondly, the stone under his fingers warm from the sun. "I still have a few years left in me, but whenever you're ready to have me steal you again, I'll be waiting." He smirked at the last remark, much like she would have done if she were there with him. If anyone was going to be doing any stealing this late in the game, it was going to have to be her.

"I miss you, Ashe," he whispered, wiping at his eye with his free hand, his fingers trembling slightly. He settled back on the bench and told her of the day's events and of their son, who was running the kingdom as smoothly as ever, even while he tried to manage his numerous children, all of them hellions with aspirations of piracy instead of nobility. Balthier's own namesake was determined to drive his father insane with begging for an airship, even if the boy was only five. Balthier had long since made certain that the Strahl would go to his favorite grandson. She was an old ship, but well made and sturdy, much like her current owner, even if she did spend more time in the aerodrome these days than out on the open air.

It was getting late, if he didn't make it back to the palace soon, his daughter-in-law would worry. She was a jewel and he loved her dearly – the marriage of a Margarace to a Bunansa _had_ ruffled Al Cid's feathers some, especially since she was the Rozarrian's firstborn – but she tended to fuss unnecessarily when it came to Balthier's welfare. He was old; he wasn't dead yet.

"Just a while longer," he said out loud, watching as the sun set over the horizon. The last rays of light seemed to sparkle, turning the sands a vibrant red.


	24. 24 puppet master, strings, control freak

Title: My Way or the Highway  
Theme(s): #24 the puppet master; strings; control freak  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Words: 100

Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Why must you always have the last word?"

* * *

"I'm telling you, we need to go right."

Ashe frowned. "And I'm saying that we should go straight."

"My way will save three days of traveling."

"Your way will put us directly in the path of fiends."

Balthier made an irritated noise that Vaan thought was unusual for the usually collected pirate. "Why must you always have the final say?"

Ashe's eyes narrowed. "Why must _you_ always have the last word?"

"Because I'm right!"

Vaan studied the map. Actually, the shortest and safest route was to the left, but he wasn't going to be the one to tell them that.


	25. 25 maillot, paradox

Title: Conflicting Opinions  
Theme(s): #25 maillot, paradox  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Why can't he act more like him?"

* * *

Penelo sat down on the ground and moodily stared into the campfire. For someone who was unusually bright and cheerful, her actions were enough to make Basch raise his eyebrows questioningly towards Ashe. She looked back at him as if to silently ask if he wanted to ask Penelo what was wrong or if she should. The situation was quickly solved when Penelo quietly sniffled and wiped her cheek with her palms. Basch stood up and gruffly muttered something about doing a perimeter check.

Ashe sighed. Basch never could handle tears well. "Is there something wrong?" she asked, turning towards Penelo.

"No." She scrubbed at her face again. "Yes. Vaan and Larsa are acting like idiots."

Oh. By the look of her face, the few tears she had shed had been angry ones. "I'm sure they didn't mean to be," Ashe started. "Vaan might be a little insensitive at times and Larsa a bit naïve when it comes to everyday topics, but they both mean well."

"It just _irritates_ me, is all," Penelo said, picking up pebbles and placing them together. "I can do a lot more than cast protective spells and hand out potions, you know. And I know more than just how to dance and keep Vaan from doing too many stupid things."

"Well of course you can." Ashe had been amazed at how fast Penelo had picked up and mastered the more destructive black magicks and how versatile she had proven herself to be, fighting with not only daggers, but with poles as well.

"Well not according to Larsa! He says that I'm more suited to helping in the background instead of learning how to use a sword. You wouldn't think he'd say something like that when he goes on about how great Judge Drace is."

Ashe sat quietly, trying to best word her thoughts while Penelo went on describing the points Larsa had brought up as to why she should be as far away from the combat their party faced on a daily basis. It was painfully obvious that he cared a great deal for Penelo, but she somehow failed to see it.

"Perhaps he's merely trying to protect you in his own way," Ashe finally said. "He hasn't known you for long, but you are one of the few people he considers his friend. And he hasn't been around you enough to see that you're perfectly capable of fending for yourself.

She bit her lip. "Well, maybe."

"And he is a gentleman. He's been taught from the cradle to respect women and protect them at all costs. You can't undo twelve years of habit in a single week."

Penelo sighed, scattering her stack of pebbles. "You're right. And Vaan just sees me as a friend." The way that she said the last bit made Ashe wonder if she wanted something more than friendship from him. "Sometimes, I wish he'd be more…"

"More what?"

"More like Basch or Balthier. They seem so grounded, especially Basch. And Balthier is always so sure of himself and he knows just the right things to say all the time."

Ashe smiled. "Perhaps that's the advantage of maturity." Even as she said it, she couldn't picture a younger Basch being awkward and blurting out things that he probably should have kept to himself. He had been there for Ashe as she grew up; stoic at times, yet as playful as their stations allowed on others. He had been such a constant in her life that she suddenly realized after spending the better part of two years hating him how much she had actually missed him. "I don't know if Balthier is a good candidate for a role model though."

"Why not? Vaan is determined to be a sky pirate; I haven't seen anyone that could be better." She curled her legs up so that her knees were touching her chin. She sighed, her voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone. "He is really handsome, isn't he?"

Ashe opened her mouth, but then closed it. "It depends on what your definition of handsome is." Her own definition happened to include fair hair and kind eyes. She stared off into the fire, remembering the warm feel of Rasler's hands in hers, their fingers twining together. Her fingers curled as she thought of the solid weight of him over her, the way that her hands would glide over his back, the contented smiles he would give her and the sleepy, affectionate kisses afterwards.

Meticulously kept hair and dark, calculating eyes didn't fit her definition, of that she was certain. Or else she _thought_ that she was sure; as the days and the miles passed, her certainties wavered, only to firmly place Rasler's face back in the forefront of her mind, then waver again. Her convictions wouldn't even falter in the first place if Balthier wasn't so contradictory in nature. He would do something kind one minute, such as wordlessly hand her a potion without imparting any comments on how she could have avoided getting hurt in the first place, or he would take the first watch when he saw that at the end of the day she was so tired she could barely keep to her feet, even though he was in the same condition.

But then he would do something cruel to remind her that he was only a money-greedy pirate, like demand her ring as payment for services rendered. What kind of gentleman would take the one physical reminder a woman had of her husband? Her eyes flicked to the pale band of skin on her finger as her thumb absently rubbed it out of habit. "He's overconfident," she said quietly. "He always thinks that he'll come out on top of things when it's all said and done."

"But he always does," Penelo said, tilting her head.

"Which means that one of these days, he won't."

"I still think that Vaan could do worse. I mean, Balthier has a lot of good qualities about him."

_He's vain and brash, but at the same time you can see he's loyal to Fran. He doesn't complain much, but you have to wonder where he learned how to twist his words so that one conversation could make you spend hours afterwards deciphering just to see if there might have been any hidden meanings directed your way._ Out loud, she said, "Yes, because one needs to know how to cheat at cards in order to make it in life."

"He doesn't cheat," Penelo said in his defense. "He just…bends the rules a little. What do you think about him?"

_Even though he's the loudest when he critiques Vaan's sword techniques, it's his own way of getting the boy to improve._ Ashe frowned. It wasn't that she _wanted_ to dislike Balthier, it was just that he had her emotionally turning in so many directions when they were together that she wished he would stop. Her previous attractions had been easy: the girlhood crush on Basch that had faded over time, the pre-arranged marriage to Rasler that had grown from mutual respect to genuine love, even the camaraderie with Vossler that years of living in close quarters and fighting for the same goal had created had been easy.

If anything, Balthier was not an easy man.

And maybe it was because Balthier wasn't an easy man to get along with that she was intrigued by him in the first place. He claimed to be a simple person to understand, but there were so many things that she didn't know about that made it difficult for her to do.

"I don't know what to make of him actually," she said quietly.

"Make of whom?" As if conjured out of thin air, Balthier gracefully sat at the fire, directly opposite of her.

"Of Vaan," Ashe said quickly.

"Ah. I overheard him and Larsa talking just now." He looked at Penelo, who was looking between Balthier and Ashe with a slightly puzzled look on her face, as if she had missed something at the sudden tension that surrounded the fire. "It seems they don't think you can handle yourself, do they, Penny?"

Penelo's cheeks grew pink at the nickname. "Not really."

"They underestimate you then. If you're interested in learning another weapon, I don't see the harm in you doing so."

Penelo gave Ashe a look that said _see, that's what I was talking about._ Balthier continued. "I think that their problem is that they don't want to see you hurt. Perhaps a compromise is in order?"

"A compromise?"

He nodded. "Yes. Promise to stay in the back, away from the main fighting and in return, I'll teach you how to use a ranged weapon. Depending on the type, they can do as much damage as a blade can."

She brightened. "You'd do that?"

"Well, I'm not very good at bows. You might want to ask Fran for help with those instead. Yet if you're interested in pistols or crossbows, I'll be more than happy to instruct you."

"We did get that crossbow from the Garif," she mused. "And it came with darts too, so it's ready to work with."

"So it's settled then? We'll start tomorrow morning."

Penelo sprang up and gave Balthier a quick hug to thank him before leaving the campfire. Ashe couldn't help but notice Balthier looked slightly surprised at her actions, covering up his emotions by fussing with the cuffs on his sleeves.

"That was nice of you to do," Ashe commented.

He tilted his head. "That's what leading men do, Princess. I have a feeling that our Penelo isn't much of a damsel in need of saving as those two boys think though."

"I don't think so either." They lapsed into silence, Ashe picking at the pebbles Penelo had previously collected.

"I won't apologize," he said suddenly.

"Then why take it?" She looked up just in time to see his closely guarded expression fall, his eyes softening.

"There are more important things in life than vengeance," he murmured, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to her. "Becoming obsessed with one thing often throws everything else out of focus, forcing you to overlook what really matters until it's too late."

He stood up, brushing his knees free of grass. "Don't forget that, Ashe."

She stared at his retreating back, stunned by hearing him use her name instead of her title.

"Did things work out?" Basch asked, coming to sit beside her again.

She blinked. "I…" Balthier was standing with Fran, talking about something. "I don't know." She looked away. He was supposed to be there for the money, but then he goes and says things like that. "But I hope it works out in the end."


	26. 26 oxymoronic, ananias

Title: An Honest Liar  
Theme(s): #26 oxymoronic; Ananias  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Isn't that a contradictory statement?"

* * *

"Three aces."

Ashe looked blearily at the cards in front of her. "You're bluffing." She prodded Basch's shoulder. "He's bluffing." Basch didn't answer, seeing that he had put his head on the table near his latest tankard of ale at least an hour ago.

"I most certainly am not bluffing." Balthier knocked back his own drink. "I am lying. There's a difference."

"What sort of difference?"

He looked puzzled. "I'm not quite sure." He wasn't as far gone as she was, but he was pleasantly buzzed enough that the room was slightly blurry around the edges.

His answer seemed to please her. "At least you're an honest liar."

"Isn't that a contradictory statement?"

She laughed. "Yes, but I've always thought you were a contradictory sort of man."

He was about to ask her to elaborate when she saw her list to the side, her eyelids heavy. "Come now; let's put you to bed before you fall to the floor."

"Rogue," she halfheartedly accused, letting him take her by the elbow. She stumbled, falling against his chest.

"Gentleman," he replied, ignoring her surprised gasp when he slung her up in his arms to make the final few feet to her rooms easier.

"Gentleman rogue," she mused, linking her hands behind his neck.

He quirked an eyebrow. "I'll take that title." He set her on her bed once he managed to take a few weaving steps. He was in the middle of trying to pry her arms from around his neck when inspiration struck. Closing the scant distance between them, he kissed her.

She made a satisfied hum, her hands going slack and sliding down to his elbows. Balthier leaned back and saw that she had fallen asleep, her lips slightly parted. He pulled a blanket over her, smiling when she curled up on her side.

"Roguish gentleman or romantic fool," he whispered, smoothing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "Take your pick."


	27. 27 love, hate and the like, emotions

Title: A Man of Many Moods  
Theme(s): #27 love, hate and the like; emotions

Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Ah. Well, that would have been grouchy!Balthier acting up."

* * *

"I never know what to make of you," she admitted.

He shrugged as he walked alongside her. "Why, I'm perfectly easy to understand."

"No you're not. One minute you act one way, the next you're different."

"Well, that would be because Grouchy!Balthier decided to act up." At her confused look, he continued. "Around the second month Fran and I started traveling together, she decided to label and catalog various moods I went through."

Ashe arched an eyebrow. "Go through numerous mood swings?"

"According to her, yes." He shouldered his pack. "Among the many, there's Sneaky!Balthier, Smarmy!Balthier – though for the life of me I can't recall ever being smarmy – and Bastard!Balthier, under which lies a wide variety of moods, Grouchy!Balthier being just one of them. I think I earned that one when I ate the last pomegranate we had in storage. To my defense, I hadn't known that she had wanted it. Cranky!Fran is quite scary."

Ashe couldn't hold back a smile at the thought of Fran being anything other than her usual calm and collected self.

"I think she actually went so far as to write out a list once, complete with cross-references and detailed notations as to why she picked them out."

"She must have had a lot of time on her hands then."

"Well, we were land-locked for a month while repairs were being done at the time. I've looked at it, but all the connecting lines made my head hurt." He kicked at a rock in his path. "I couldn't help but notice that there were more negative traits than positive ones though."

She laughed. "Maybe I should ask Fran if I could see this list."

"If you do, ignore Sick-With-A-Head-Cold!Balthier. I have no recollection of that one, but apparently she thought enough of it to place it under the Grumpy category."

A few feet ahead of them, Fran's ears twitched and she shook her head.

"Anything wrong?" Basch asked.

"No." _Just Charming!Balthier at work._


	28. 28 romeo, romeo, wherefore art thou?

Title: Better Late Than Never  
Theme(s): #28 Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou?  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe aren't mine. Property of Square.  
Summary: "Isn't that a little too conventional for your tastes?"

* * *

Ashe stood out at her balcony, gazing at the scenery below. The rain that had been falling for the past week straight had slowed down for the evening to a fine mist. She inhaled, enjoying the clean scent of ozone that filled the desert. The dry season was nice in its own way, but she always did like the sense of renewal and replenishment that the rains offered.

She drummed her fingers against the stone railing, her eyes now scanning the darkness for any sign of movement. "Where _are_ you?" she muttered, nails tapping out an impatient beat. The sound of her bedroom door closing with a muted click had her turning on her heel.

"Looking for someone?" Balthier drawled, stepping out onto the balcony with her. "I certainly hope you weren't arranging an illicit tryst out here."

She couldn't help the smile that broke out on her face. "Most certainly not. If you do recall, this tryst was already pre-arranged."

"Ah, good. I would hate to do anything that would be considered legal by any of your chancellors."

"The door?" she asked, relaxing against his chest as his arms went around her and he rested his chin on her shoulder. "Isn't that a little too conventional for your tastes? You're over twenty minutes late, by the way."

He made a dismissive noise at the back of his throat. "Have you _noticed_ the condition of the stone tonight, my lady? It wouldn't do if I lost my footing and fell to my death." He pressed a kiss to the rim of her ear. "And then where would that leave you?"

She stepped out of his embrace, taking his hand in hers as she went back inside. "Where, indeed?"

"Besides," he said, coming up behind her again. His fingers plucked at the thin robe she wore, the material falling off her shoulders to pool at her feet. "Eluding the guards was more exciting than the usual climb. I might have to try that more often."


	29. 29 affaire de couer

Title: Something to Talk About  
Theme(s): #29 Affaire de Coeur  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix.  
Summary: "Rumor is that you've had suitors knocking on your door at all hours."

* * *

The morning was already warm by the time that Ashe stirred. She didn't want to wake up just yet; she'd put in a long night of reading and her eyes still felt like two dried up pieces of fruit in their sockets. She groaned, knowing that she had a day filled with even more reading and signing and listening to advisors tell her what they thought was best for their country seeing that she had "been away for so long," as they often put it, ahead of her.

Never mind that she had spent seventeen years totally immersed in politics at her father's side, rules and regulations replacing the usual flights of fancy that other children were used to for bedtime tales. She humored some of the "helpful" pats to the hand she had been receiving from advisors that had been around since her father's time, but had been finding herself dodging insistencies from everyone to inform her that she was in dire need of strengthening ties with the rest of Ivalice, preferably through marriage. At the beginning of her reign, getting everything else back on track after two years had taken precedence over such matters, but now requests to entertain various noteworthy matches had been becoming more and more frequent.

She didn't think that it would be of any use if she told anyone that she would rather not, seeing that the man that had stolen her heart had been gone from her life for a little over a year and a half. He'd been a clever thief too; she hadn't become fully aware of his actions until it had been too late to do anything but mourn his loss. The only sign that he was still alive had been the sudden return of her ring, but she hadn't seen a trace of Balthier anywhere in Dalmasca since.

Rolling to her side, she told herself that dwelling on things that might have been didn't help present matters; they only served to remind her of how lonely she had become. She stretched, feeling the consequences of sitting far too long hunched over documents in a chair that hadn't been all that comfortable to begin with. She could hear the quiet sounds of her maids putting out her breakfast in the sitting room. They were talkative this morning, she thought with a smile, knowing that the older Mistress of Chambermaids had always frowned on them disturbing her sleep with idle conversation. Ashe had tried to tell them that it was fine, that she didn't mind, but they always went about their morning routine as silent as ghosts. It seemed that their fear of disobeying their superior outweighed their monarch's wish for friendly companionship.

Ashe didn't begrudge them, she'd been terrified of the Mistress of Chambermaids since she had been six and had dragged sand over freshly cleaned floors. Even now, the memory was enough for Ashe to check her shoes several times before entering any part of the palace.

Tugging on her dressing robe, she went from her bedchamber to the sitting room, rubbing her tired eyes. She bid her maids a good morning while pushing her hair out of her face.

And then she stopped dead in her tracks.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she demanded, her hands on her hips.

Balthier looked up from his seat near the window, a steaming cup of tea in his hand. "Good morning, your Majesty," he said cheerfully, taking a sip. "Eggs? They're quite good; there wasn't a serving for a second person, so I took the liberty of helping myself to some of yours. I hope you don't mind."

Her eyes narrowed and she pointed to the door. "Out."

"And the tea is just superb. Imported from Bhujerba, I presume?"

"I am not going to sit and talk about trivial things with a man that's been dead for more than a year!"

He winked. "Very well. Stay standing, if you wish. This is, after all, your bedroom." He eyed her. "Nice gown."

Her hands clutched at her robe, pulling it tightly around her body. "_Balthier_…"

He looked at the maids, who had seemingly been frozen in place the second that their Queen had entered the room. "So she remembers my name," he said to them. "I was almost afraid that I hadn't made an impression on her." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the younger of the two girls smothered a giggle behind her hand.

Ashe's cheeks flamed and she suddenly wished that her sword wasn't stored away in the palace armory. "If the two of you are finished, I would like to be left in peace for the morning," she bit out, the rational portion of her mind knowing that she was being rude to the wrong people. The rest of her didn't really care one way or another.

Balthier watched as the two maids left the room, both girls glancing back behind their shoulders before looking at the other. "If you really wanted to be alone with me…" he didn't get to finish because the back of Ashe's hand cracked over his face.

"A year and a half," she ground out, teeth clenched. "How dare you come here, acting as if you've only been gone a week! How _dare_ you show up after making me think you were dead!"

He stood up then, neatly placing the napkin he had over his lap back on the table. "Are you finished?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't think I've even begun." She turned away from him, her arms hugging herself. The urge to hurt him warred with the need to fling herself into his arms and never let him go. She didn't think he'd appreciate either move, so she clutched at her elbows until her fingers turned white.

"May I say something?" His voice was close and she could practically feel him standing behind her.

"I'd rather you left," she told him. "I'm very busy today and your arrival has cost me precious time."

"Ah yes," his tone went from conversational to caustic. "Diplomatic meetings with potential suitors. Apparently you don't tell Basch everything in your letters."

She turned to look at him. "What?" He had been to Archades? Why hadn't Basch told her anything?

He frowned. "Rumor has it that you have a new suitor every day. They're practically knocking on your door at all hours."

"Where did you hear that?"

He waved his hand in front of his face. "The marketplaces. For a ruler of the people, you need to listen to them closer." He leaned in closer and Ashe was suddenly entranced by the scars that ran across the side of his face, making her wonder how he got them. "Perhaps I waited too long."

She couldn't help it. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek, the skin still slightly red from where she had slapped him. "Why are you here, Balthier?"

He closed his eyes, then stepped away. "Check your records again." Leaving her looking puzzled, he opened her door and stepped out, loudly bidding the guards posted in the hallway good morning.

Later that afternoon, she called her meetings short. She felt as if her wits had been scattered and the only thing that she could keep her mind on was the last thing Balthier had said before he had left.

"Is everything all right?" one of her advisors asked. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

She nodded. "I'm just a little tired." She was going to retire to her rooms for the rest of the day, but she stopped. "There is one thing that you can do."

"What is it?"

"Bring me every record we have available for the sky pirate Balthier." If her advisor found her request odd, he didn't let it show.

There were thirty-seven warrants for his arrest all over Ivalice, running the gamut from impersonating healers to forging documents allowing access to private airship hangars of wealthy noblemen only to steal said ships. They were defunct, seeing that as far as any legal office knew, Balthier Bunansa had been dead for the proper amount of time for the statute of limitations to expire on each of his crimes. Ashe held one of them up. Larsa had recently signed the thirty-sixth a week ago, declaring Balthier's crime of falsifying records in order to settle a large gambling debt invalid.

Ashe stared at the thirty-seventh one on her desk before picking up a pen.

Balthier yawned as he made his way back to the room he was renting in Balfonheim. It was so late in the evening that it could technically be considered morning. He didn't care; he'd won a decent amount of gil in the card game that had gone on most of the night and the drinks he'd consumed were currently making his head pleasantly blurry. Fumbling at the door, he unlocked it and stumbled inside, whistling as he did so.

"Good evening," Ashe said from her seat near the empty fireplace. She offered a half-eaten heel of bread. "Dinner? There wasn't a setting for a second person, so I took the liberty of sampling a bit of everything."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his head quickly clearing.

"And the wine is spectacular," she held up the glass. "It's regional, isn't it? Or perhaps imported from Archadia?"

"Ashe – "

"So, he remembers my name. And here I thought I hadn't made an impression on you."

He sank down on the nearby bed and wearily laughed. "Enjoying throwing my words back at me?"

She tilted her head. "Somewhat."

He gestured towards the door. "I'd rather you left."

"And I'd rather stay, if that's all the same to you."

He raked his hands through his hair and looked at her. "Why are you here?"

She set the glass down on the scarred table. "There's a matter of your actions to discuss. Because of you, I've had to undergo the third degree from everyone. Was it true that a man left your bedchamber? Is he reputable or connected? Are you serious about forming an alliance with him?"

"I'm sorry I caused you such agony." The tone he used clearly stated he wasn't. "Whatever can I do to make it up to you?"

"Well, for starters, I was going to exact some revenge on you. Several people saw me enter your rooms and I don't intend to leave until very late in the morning with a highly satisfied look on my face."

Balthier stared at her for a split second before throwing his head back and laughing. "You're going to have to do better than that to start the rumor mill going. This i is /i a town full of pirates, after all."

Ashe stood up. "Then maybe this might be reason enough for my presence." She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. Balthier quickly scanned it before looking at her again.

"Wanted on the charges of breaking and entering the royal treasury with intent to appropriate valuable heirlooms?"

"I found it odd that Fran doesn't have a single warrant to her name."

He rolled his eyes. "That's because she always lets me take the fall and spends the rest of the time figuring out how to break me out of any cell I might have gotten myself thrown into." He set the paper aside. "Does this mean you looked into the rest of my record?"

"You have a rather colorful past, I'll give you that. Though seeing that you've been legally dead for the proper amount of time, I don't think I can rightfully say that any more. The name Balthier Bunansa has been fully cleared."

The mattress squeaked as he stood up. "That's good, because I'm going to do something completely dastardly now."

Ashe was going to ask him what he meant when he advanced on her, his hands on either of her shoulders as he kissed her. She melted into his embrace, eagerly returning his attentions.

"Was it true that a man left your bedchambers?" he asked, nipping at her lip.

"Yes." She slid her fingers through his hair.

His hands went to the small of her back. "Is he reputable or connected?"

"Absolutely not," she replied, kissing her way to his jaw. "And I like him better that way."

He tilted her chin up so she was looking him in the eye. "Are you serious about forming an alliance with him?"

Her smile vanished, a serious look replacing it. "If he'll have me."

His arms went around her, his breath stirring her hair near her ear. "I have no intention of letting you leave this room otherwise."

She framed his face with her hands. "Tell me something, did you have this planned since before you stepped foot on Bahamut?"

"No, but while I was recovering from the crash, it didn't take me long to figure things out." He leaned his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry for making you go through that."

She stepped up on tiptoe to press her lips on his. "That's all right. I'll just have you make up for lost time."

Balthier smirked, a devilish light dancing in his eyes. "You were saying something about not leaving here until late morning with a highly satisfied look on your face?"

"I did." As a person who had a soft spot for romance, Penelo was waiting to take her back to Dalmasca via a very small airship she had 'borrowed' from Vaan. Ashe's court believed that she had urgent business to attend to with the Emperor, which gave her a valuable window of time to play with before anyone grew wary, more if Larsa cooperated. As Penelo dropped Ashe off before making her way to Archades, she promised that she'd make sure there weren't any holes in anyone's stories. Ashe made a mental note to outfit both young sky pirates with a state of the art ship, or at least help fund one of their liking.

Balthier's hands tightened on her waist. "I'm afraid that won't do. I'm not letting you out of my sight until at least after noon." He lunged to the side, sending them both sprawling on the bed.

She laughed. "If that's the case, your reputation is going to be completely ruined."

He sat up on an elbow and stared down at her. "Then shall we give the gossips something to _really_ talk about?"


	30. 30 aesthesiogen

Title: One Last Fling  
Theme(s): #30 aesthesiogen  
Pairing/Characters: Balthier/Ashe  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer/claimer: Balthier and Ashe do not belong to me. Property of Square Enix. A reference later on probably needs me to say that I don't have any rights to Han Solo either. Damn.  
Summary: "I think I might enjoy being on the right side of the law for once."

Note: And that makes 30. Balthier/Ashe claim complete.

* * *

The week after the return of her ring, Ashe jumped at shadows. Any noise she heard, she was certain that it was him coming back to her. At first, she had been furious with him. He'd been alive for an entire year without saying anything. After the initial anger had worn off, she thought about it rationally. Yes, he might have flirted with her on the course of their travels, but then again, that was just part of his personality. He had also flirted with Penelo – who had blushed and giggled – and with Fran – who had either ignored him completely or simply rolled her eyes – so she really couldn't say that she was certain he had ever been interested in her at all in the first place.

She couldn't say the same for how she felt about him. True, he had at first seemed cold-hearted, but eventually she realized that he had her best interests at heart. He kept to himself, preferring Fran's company over the rest of their group, but he was also one of the first to toss out a potion or administer first aid to anyone that needed it. Not to mention that he was pleasant to look at. He wasn't what she would consider her own personal type, but he was incredibly handsome.

She didn't know how or when it had happened, but she soon realized that she was falling in love with him. And now she couldn't stop thinking about the sky pirate. The smooth rumble of a passenger airship on the way to the aerodrome had her eyes flicking skyward, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Strahl. From what Penelo had told her, while in Rabanastre to return her possession, Balthier and Fran had reclaimed theirs. Vaan had been put out, especially since he had finally gotten the pilot seat adjusted to his tastes.

Wandering the marketplaces amongst her people proved no easier on her either. A vendor selling clothing carried a shirt almost identical in style as his, making her remember the way the material had stretched over his shoulders. Another stall sold cologne that had the exact same spicy notes that had assaulted her senses while they had traveled together.

Ashe bought both.

Two weeks after the return of her ring, she stopped hoping that he'd materialize out of thin air. To do what, she didn't know. She didn't need a rescuer, and she definitely didn't have a need for a lover. She was so busy that she often fell asleep before her head even hit the pillow each night. She didn't have time for a private life and she guessed that Balthier wouldn't have liked the idea of playing second fiddle to her responsibilities.

Three months after the return of her ring, Ashe tried not to think of him. Obviously, she really hadn't meant anything to him and he had moved eon. Now she had to try to do the same.

She should have known better than to leave her balcony doors open during the wet season, but it was rare to get a cool breeze. She was woken up from a sound sleep when she felt the bed dip behind her. She didn't even have time to alert her guards before a hand closed over her mouth. The cool press of rings against her lips and the feel of a bracelet at her neck was familiar.

"Really, your security seems to be rather lax," Balthier drawled, his voice low.

Ashe turned and sat up, the sheets pooling to her waist.

"Lovely gown," he commented, touching the cuffs to one of the sleeves she had rolled up her arm. "It seems familiar somehow."

She blushed; somewhat embarrassed that he had caught her sleeping in one of the shirts that had reminded her of him. "Why are you here?" she asked. "Aside from making comments on my sleepwear, that is."

He shrugged, making himself comfortable next to her. "Does the idea that I merely wanted to see you sound so strange?"

"You could have come to visit any number of times during the past three months. And in broad daylight as well."

He stacked his hands behind his head and stared at her. "Now what's the fun in that? And for your information, Fran and I have been quite busy lately."

"Doing illegal activities, no less." She sighed and settled down beside him. The warmth he was radiating sank into her skin and she fought to move any closer than she already was. "And if so, I don't want to hear about them."

"But I think you might want to. See, my business involves you."

"How so?"

"One last fling before settling down." He turned to his side and leaned on an elbow.

"Oh?" She tried to keep her voice casual as she sat up, mirroring his position. "You found someone that you'd choose over piracy?"

"Well, maybe not _all_ of it. Just the sneaking around and being wanted by a number of headhunters parts. I think I might like being on the straight and narrow for once."

She couldn't contain her snort of disbelief. "It won't last."

"And what makes you say that?"

"You're going to miss the thrill of it all. One of these days, you'll probably resent this woman you're giving all of that away for." She tried, she really did, but she couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. It was odd, how she could feel so jealous of some woman she didn't even know that had succeeded in winning Balthier's heart.

He reached out and wound a strand of her hair around his finger. "I don't think I will." He let the strand go, watching as it curled back in place near her ear. "She's worth it."

"So, is she pretty?"

"Very. If I was poetic, I'd say she was beautiful beyond compare."

"Then it's a good thing you're not poetic."

He smirked. "I've always been better with actions than words." He wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis; his voice taking on a flirtatious lilt like it had so often done in the past.

She sat up and crossed her arms. "And the reason you're here is because you wanted that last adventure?" She tilted her chin. "Breaking into a woman's bedroom is a little boring, Balthier."

"Not when said bedroom belongs to a queen."

Ashe's eyes narrowed. "I will not be made into a conquest or a trophy."

He leaned back. "I'd never do such a thing." The teasing tone was completely gone and he looked back at her honestly.

She hated it, but she could feel tears burning at the backs of her eyes. "Then _why_? Why are you here?"

He leaned forward again. "Like I said earlier, I wanted to see you." For the first time since she had known him, Ashe felt as if he was struggling for words. "And I may be fluent in Archadian law, but Dalmascan regulations are slightly foreign to me."

"Again, something you could have asked three months ago."

He grimaced. "I would have, but you see, I had someone on my case. Fran and I had been hired to smuggle some goods out by a certain shady businessman, and along the route we were boarded by Imperials, so naturally we had to jettison anything illegal…" he stopped himself before he rambled. "Needless to say, we owed a lot of money to this person. So much that he was threatening to have me flash frozen and put up on a wall as a decoration."

"And by the look of things, you managed to pay him off."

"Yes. It took a very long time, but I succeeded in erasing every single debt to my name."

She frowned. "But why did you feel the need to do that before coming to see me?"

Balthier leaned closer to her so that his nose brushed her cheek. She couldn't help the shiver the move produced. "So I could inquire as to the proper way of going about courting royalty. I wanted to make sure that there wasn't anything else standing in my way."

She froze, his words sinking into her brain. She tilted her head back and looked at him. He wasn't cocky or sure of himself now, but genuinely looked as if he were afraid of what she might tell him. "And what makes you think that any royalty would have anything to do with your proposal?"

He swallowed. "I had hoped…" He paused and seemed to regain his confidence when he realized that she was beaming at him. "Well, if she wasn't, then I'd have to do my best to persuade her otherwise. I can be rather charming, you know."

She laughed, then impulsively tilted her head towards him and pressed her lips against his. Balthier's hand came up to frame her face, his fingers sliding though her hair until he was cupping the back of her head. "I'd never let you give up being who you are," she whispered, brushing her lips over his cheek.

"As I said earlier, you're worth it." His hand moved to her waist and he tugged her closer to him. "Though I might have to raid certain treasuries every now and again, just to get the urge out of my system."

She rolled her eyes, but smiled against his lips when he rolled her under him and kissed her like she had always wanted him to.

Three months and one day after the return of her ring, Ashe realized that waking to the sight of sleep-tousled hair on the pillow next to her and the feel of Balthier's hand at her hip was far better than anything she could have imagined.


End file.
